Comfortable
by Lilac Wolf
Summary: Just another regular Allies meeting - America is being an obnoxious loudmouth, England and France are having a petty argument, China is muttering to himself, and Russia is observing. But where is our favorite Canadian in all of this? Why, underneath Russia! A little drabble I wanted to write. RusCan, Human names used. I don't know if this qualifies as fluff...


_This is just a small drabble I felt like writing after discovering this pairing. I hope you like it!_

**Comfortable**

Matthew was, unsurprisingly, the first to show up to the Allies meeting. Taking a seat in his usual chair, with Kumajirou securely in his arms, he waited for his brother and the others.

Usually, after the Canadian, Alfred was the next to come in. Today, though, it was Yao.

"What's this, aru?" He looked around the room, a mixture of confusion and surprise on his face. "Ai-yah, I'm finally the first one here!" The man cheered happily. Meanwhile, Matthew just sweat dropped. It seems he was invisible again.

Next to arrive was Francis. "Bonjour, Yao," he greeted suavely as he glided in, rose petals flowing behind him. The Chinese man mumbled something to himself, not bothering to respond.

Alfred stormed in, grinning like a madman, with Arthur right behind. "Hey dudes! The hero has arrived!"

"Asshat," the Englishman muttered.

Yao, who sat to the right of Matthew, once again muttered under his breath. "Stupid westerners. I should just take your land for myself, aru!" He grumbled.

"Where's Ivan?" Arthur dared to question. He raised a good point. The Russian was usually here fairly early.

"Speak of the devil, aru," Yao spoke as Ivan walked in, fashionably late.

"Da, I am here," he announced, walking over toward Yao – and sitting down right where Matthew was seated.

'Holy Maple! Not again!' Matthew thought to himself. Ivan actually had a bad habit of sitting on him. And the worst part was he never even noticed. With a despondent sigh - also unnoticed by the Allies - Matthew prepared himself for a long meeting.

About three quarters of the way through the meeting, the Canadian was ready to up and leave. And he would have, honestly he would; were it not for the large Russian crushing his windpipe. Said man was smiling brightly in that odd (yet charming, though Matthew would never say it out loud - not like anyone would hear him anyway) way of his, observing everything around them. Arthur and Francis were arguing (go figure), Alfred was shouting something about attacks and heros and other nonsensical crap (when is he not?), and Yao was muttering to himself once again about the 'Stupid westerners.' Basically, it was just another day.

Watching the clock agonizingly, Matthew became ecstatic when the hands finally hit 3:00. "Alright dudes, good talk! Same time next week?" Alfred exclaimed brightly. Yao was already up and on his way out.

"Unfortunately, aru." and with that he was gone. Francis and Arthur left together, with Alfred close behind. Finally Ivan stood up as well and headed for the door. Matthew, though, finally decided to speak up.

"H-hey, Ivan?" He called to the Russian. Said man turned around with a smile.

"Da, Mattvey?"

The Canadian's face lit up bright red at the nickname. "W-wy do you always sit on me during meetings?" His eyes were clenched shut and his face was putting Spain's tomatoes to shame. Hearing footsteps, he figured Ivan had simply forgotten his prescence and left - at least, before he felt a large hand rest upon his head. Matthew's head shot up, looking the Russian in the eyes. He was met with a kind smile.

"Da, isn't it obvious?" The Canadian, still bright red, shook his head. His smile spreading into a grin, Ivan leaned down and took Matthew's lips with his own.

Blue eyes open wide and face even redder (Holy maple, Matthew, you're redder than a firetruck!), he could only stand stock still in shock. Finally the Russian pulled away, a kind smile still spread across his face.

"Because you are very comfortable Mattvey." He patted Matthew's hair and walked toward the door. "Da, I look forward to sitting on you again!"

When he was alone in the meeting room, Matthew's face returned to its normal shade and he sighed deeply. "Oh great," he thought despondently as he gripped Kumajirou tighter in his grasp.

But, if you watched the innocent Canadian leave that room, on that day, at that moment, you would see a slight smile on his face.

And he could not help but look forward to the next meeting.

But as Matthew walked out the doors of the building toward his lone car, the all too familiar words rang out:

"Who are you?"


End file.
